One Piece Left
by Taattosbt
Summary: The hardest part of war is looking the enemy in the face and seeing yourself in them. Months after the death of Cronus, SG-1 meets his successor, Hades. By the end of the day goa'uld and humans no longer seem so different.
1. Dawn

Hades watched the steam rise off the surface of the coffee. It was easier than watching the blank paper and pen that lay beside the mug. Finding the steam an inadequate muse she lifted her eyes to the window. They were an indifferent brown—her eyes, not the window. They possessed the sort of unremarkable that settles on things that were once praised and now largely ignored.

The hangar bay hadn't changed since the last time she went looking for inspiration. Rows upon rows of tel'taks, neat and shining. Her's stuck out obscenely, battered and scratched, not quite in this row or that. Since her clumsy landing weeks—months?—before it had sat there disturbing the order of things. The god's home. She didn't want to move into the proper quarters.

She reached for the pen, sighed, and reached for the coffee instead. She sipped. She would have glowed her eyes in frustration if it would have done anything to remove the block. It wouldn't, though. Writer's block cared little for apotheosis. She glowed them anyway. Or maybe she didn't. It was too early in the morning for anyone to tell or care.

Hades placed the mug back on the instrument panel. The dark surface was stained with rings of coffee, and tea, and alcohol from years of use more as a counter than a navigational readout.

_Click. Click. Click._

Miranda. Right on time. As usual. Hades closed her eyes and listened to the staccato of heels coming closer. Miranda had taken to wearing professional Earth clothing. No one objected. It had been a long time since the first prime had had to settle anything with a fight. Hades couldn't say _her_ first prime. Miranda certainly wasn't _her_ first prime. Miranda didn't belong to anybody and never really had. The only person who could claim that illusion was dead. Had been dead for weeks—months?

_Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock._

Four. Always four. "It's open." Hades called, not bothering to rise or turn her chair.

The door creaked its protest and Miranda stepped through. Stepped was the wrong word for this woman. From the gleaming symbol of Cronus on her forehead to the tips of her stilettos Miranda shone with a majestic and universal competence. But even that description fell short. The woman was a goddess. But whoever made the rules had decided that wasn't the place of a jaffa, so she settled for first prime instead.

"You need to sign these." Miranda held a tablet out to Hades who took it humbly.

"Should I pretend to read… whatever this is?" It was a sincere question.

Miranda thought for a moment. "No." She thought a moment more. "I would have skipped these if I could. I've never warmed to agriculture. Even law can't spice that up."

"Is law spicy?"

"It is to me."

"Good. You're job and all." Hades flicked through the notices and petitions, searching for dotted lines.

"Well, someone has to govern this empire." Miranda straightened a wall panel which promptly fell back askew. "I wish you'd move into your father's room."

Hades ignored the last comment and responded to the first, "Are we still an empire?"

"Of course we're still an empire." Miranda frowned, "I kept all of the core worlds. I just let loose the partial colonies and contested territories."

Hades offered up the tablet as a sacrifice to peace. "Very logical."

Appeased, Miranda took it. "Certainly more manageable." She gave Hades a caring smile. Her eyes fell on the blank paper. The smile fell. "Trouble writing?"

"Yes."

Miranda blinked. Then straightened her spine. "Well. Something will come." Hades looked up at her. "It always does."

The statement fell flat. So many optimistic statements do.

Hades looked down at her hands. "Thank you." She rubbed them together and watched her blunt nails pass over her palms. She looked up at Miranda again. "I'll be on the pel'tak today. I think."

The smile returned. "Good." She turned to go, reached the door, and turned back. "Something will come."

* * *

The world and characters depicted in this story belong to Roland Emmerich, Dean Devlin, Jonathan Glassner, Brad Wright, and the Sci-Fi Channel. No profit is made off their use herein.


	2. Morning - part 1

Nestor had been cleaning up all morning. All night too, but he wasn't going to tell Miranda that. Her employees' welfare was a high priority for the boss. Broken workers meant broken equipment which meant wasted money. In her opinion, a sleep deprived engineer could do more damage than a missile. Even when the ship was falling apart she made sure everyone got to rest from time to time. And the ship was very much falling apart.

"Lord help us." He muttered, touching his Cronus mark and closing weapons control panel. Victory or no victory, as far as he and the Ha'tak were concerned it was a loss.

He pulled himself up, taking a sidelong glance at the empty throne. "Grant me luck." He liked talking to his imaginary gods. Before he'd had to keep his informal prayers to himself, now he just blurted them out when he liked. Hades didn't mind. Well, maybe she did, but there was nothing she could do about it. He plopped himself down on the attached chair and gave the screen a tentative tap. It glowed to life. "That's my baby."

"Morning, Nestor." Hades leaned against the doorway, apparently trying to make herself as small as possible. That girl was the strangest god.

"Good morning, my lord." She didn't like spectacle. Every goa'uld he'd ever heard of liked spectacle. Still one only had to glance at her loose cotton shirt and tau'ri pants—what had Miranda called them? Yes, blue jeans—to know that Hades was an exception.

She took two tentative steps inside, rubbing her arms and looking around at the gutted screens and power relays. She did not look at the throne. "Don't— You don't need—"

"To call you 'my lord?'" He turned around to look her in the eye. "I want to."

"But you know. I told you."

"You told everyone before Miranda made you stop." He went back to work.

Hades fiddled with the corner of the navigation control. "Miranda likes illusion."

"Miranda understands necessity." He looked up again, a sly smile playing across his lips. "That's not why I do it, though."

Hades' brow furrowed. "Why do you do it?"

"Because I believe in you."

She chuckled, "Very funny." He held her gaze. "It's all lies. You know that, right?"

It was his turn to laugh. "Yes. But if it helps me to orient my universe, lead a better life, why not? I believe in you. In all of you. Because it helps me."

"I think you are alone in that sentiment."

"Ah." Nestor shrugged. "I'm sure I could find a few system lords who agree with me."

"I'm not one of them."

"Well you're barely a system lord." He swiveled aimlessly for a moment, then said, "Sit down. Stay a while."

Hades perched on the edge of the pilot's seat. "You know, I've never seen a pel'tak with chairs."

"Miranda's handiwork." Hades cocked her head. Nestor explained. "Her other job. Doesn't let a single one roll off the line without 'em."

Hades' eyebrows rose. "She must've taken heat for that."

"Yeah, but: she makes the best. Who else you gonna buy from?"

"Slaves."

"That's not buying." Nestor crossed his arms triumphantly, "and slaves don't have cutting edge R&D." Hades surrendered the field. They sat in silence for a time. Nestor shattered it with a pointed question. Pointed questions are always the best for such situations. "You going to take your seat?" He eyed the throne.

Hades changed the subject. "Communications still broken?" She nodded to a blasted wall screen. It wasn't accusing or angry, just a desperate attempt to avoid the question.

He showed mercy. "Audio's up. I'll get around to it at some point. There's bigger things to worry about."

"Right." Hades took a breath. "How bad are things?"

"Camulus gave us a hell of a beating."

"We won."

"Yeah, well" Nestor rose and gathered his tools, "we can't take many more victories."

"We'll move on soon." Hades liked Tainaron, even though it was an outer planet. It was her home a very long time ago. Back when she was still a he. But it was time to leave. Necessity dictated it. The silence was becoming awkward again when the communications unit rescued them. "I'll get it."

Nestor smiled. She was feeling better today. He watched his reluctant deity cross the room and pick up the receiver. He hoped it would last.

"Yeah?" She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. Making herself smaller. "Yes, Hades, but I'm not—" Nestor suppressed a laugh. He'd never known someone so averse to being a god. "Kay. What happened?" Silence again, save for the crackling of the communications line. Nestor didn't even hide his eavesdropping. "Where?"

The pel'tak doors opened and Miranda marched in. She spotted Hades, then shot Nestor a questioning look. "Scout call." He mouthed. Miranda looked back to Hades and waited expectantly.

Hades was getting more and more confused. She bit her lip and cocked her head again, shifting uncomfortably against the wall. "Why?"

Nestor wished he could hear the other half of the conversation. Miranda wished harder.

Hades hung up and turned to Miranda. Questions were written all over the god's face, and the one she asked made Miranda's jaw drop. "Who's SG-1?"

Nestor no longer wished to have heard any part of the conversation.

* * *

The world and characters depicted in this story belong to Roland Emmerich, Dean Devlin, Jonathan Glassner, Brad Wright, and the Sci-Fi Channel. No profit is made off their use herein.


	3. Morning - part 2

"Don't you guys know how to pick a lock?"

Jack wasn't sure if the girl in the doorway was a slave or a goa'uld. Her forehead was blank, so she wasn't a jaffa. In all the times he'd been locked up by one false-god or another a slave had never been the first on the scene to gloat. Still, the girl looked nothing like a goa'uld. She was waiting for an answer. He took a gamble. "We're just enjoying your hospitality." She remained silent, half in half out of the room. Unsure of what to do with herself. If she wasn't going to talk he would. "I find the low tech accommodation appaling."

"I'm so sorry." Was she being sarcastic? "We lost power during a battle and had some prisoners and bars work just as well." She looked him up and down. "Apparently." She was definitely being sarcastic.

Jack and the girl continued to regard each other. The staring match was going nowhere, so Daniel decided to take the initiative. "Who are you?"

"Hades." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried. She stepped forward. "You're Sam? Right?"

"Daniel." He corrected.

"Daniel. Sorry." Hades began wringing her hands, bending her fingers back and forth as far as they would go. "Miranda told me about you… people, but…" She looked at the floor as if it would finish the sentence for her. "I wasn't paying attention."

A goa'uld after Jack's own heart. He spoke up, "Hades. Like in the cartoon?"

"Cartoon?"

It was Teal'c's turn to explain. He so rarely got a turn to explain. "A storytelling form from Earth."

Hades looked to the floor again and smiled to herself. "I'm still around. Cool." She gathered herself and looked directly at them for the first time. "If I drop the drop the keys six feet away can you reach them?"

Sam voiced what they were all thinking. "What?"

"The keys." Hades held up the aforementioned keys, and accompanied her words with pantomime. "What distance—" she measured a distance with her hands. "Should I drop them at—" Here she lowered the keys almost to the ground. "So you—" She indicated them. "Can escape." She struck a pose that Sam assumed was meant to be running.

Daniel stared at the manic goa'uld. "Why do you want us to escape?"

Hades frowned at him. "Why don't you want to escape?" She threw up her hands in frustration. "Which one of you is Sam? Sam's supposed to be smart."

"I am." Sam gave a small wave. "Why do you want us to escape?"

"I have a lot on my plate." Hades said defensively.

Jack nodded. "Yes, I am sure there are many worlds to enslave. It's gotta be tough."

"Well... yeah. O.K. Not me—" Hades went back to wringing her hands and desperately looking to the floor for answers. "But Miranda—the first prime—has a lot on her plate, and…and I just want to… do stuff…but you being here is making everyone crazy so can you just go?" Her speech came tumbling out so fast it was almost one word. "Please?" She added.

No one knew what to do. Jack took a stab at doing something and said, "Why don't you just give 'em to us?"

This seemed to get Hades back on track. "Plausible deniability. Miranda can say 'Oh, dropped the keys! Darn!'" She returned to pantomime and manic grinning. She deflated. "Can you just go? You're supposed to save the galaxy all the time, this can't be that difficult."

Jack looked at Hades for a moment then rested both his arms on the bars. "I've got an idea. Come closer?"

* * *

Miranda was quite satisfied with the morning. Sure, SG-1 had derailed it slightly, but everything was back on track. Hades was dealing with them, repairs were going well, and the schedule for the election cycle would be settled by evening.

Miranda beamed as she strode down the hall from the gate room. Hades was trying. It was a good day.

Then Miranda froze. Hades was walking down the hall. SG-1 was walking down the hall. Hades was walking down the hall at gunpoint in front of SG-1.

By the time her brain finished processing the whole absurd sight they were almost upon her. She shook herself. "Darling—" she called goauld 'darling' when she was nervous. "What are you doing?"

Hades looked over her shoulder. "Showing SG-1 out."

Miranda quickened her pace to keep up. If the tau'ri objected to her presence they didn't say anything. Or rather, Miranda didn't care enough to listen. "That wasn't what I meant."

Hades held up a hand. "It's fine. They're gonna leave. I could use a break."

They were almost to the door. "Stop moving!" Miranda snapped and struck teal'c with her tablet. He paid no attention.

The doors opened. "Seriously, Miranda, it's fine." Hades smiled as the gate spun to life.

"How is it fine?!" Miranda shouted over the outgoing portal.

"Because I have the plot."

Hades disappeared into the wormhole. Miranda stood alone with the huge, empty ring. "That's good." She said.

* * *

The world and characters depicted in this story belong to Roland Emmerich, Dean Devlin, Jonathan Glassner, Brad Wright, and the Sci-Fi Channel. No profit is made off their use herein.


	4. Noon

"Lunch?" Daniel tossed a pomegranate to Hades.

She caught it. "So you have that myth."

"Yep." Daniel pulled a chair up across from Hades. He set a closed file on the table. "Is it true?"

Hades leaned back in her chair and rolled her eyes around the concrete walls. She paused briefly, craning her neck back to get a good, long look at the surveillance camera. "No. Dad needed his son to look more main-stream. No one would believe mass murder, so kidnap and rape had to do." She pressed her fingers into the pomegranate, then though better of it and put it down.

"Worried you'll stain you're cloths?" Daniel attempted a scathing remark. He needed to practice.

"Naw." Hades looked down at the cheap cotton. "If anything it might improve it."

He returned to interrogating. "So you are male?"

"Where did that come from?" Hades was surprised, and a tad insulted.

Daniel rejoiced inwardly. It felt good to be surprising Hades for a change. "Son. You described yourself as a son."

"It's a very personal question." She squinted a bit and flicked her eyes to the ceiling. "It also doesn't make sense. I'm—" She waved her hand over the nape of her neck, "back here."

Daniel sighed, "You once had a male host."

"I'm not answering that sober."

"Why?"

"The usual reasons." He raised an eyebrow, so she continued, "Because it is a long and—" Hades suddenly became very interested in a scratch on the table. She ran a nail along it. She looked up at Daniel through her eyelashes. "Complicated story."

"O.K. then." Daniel shuffled opened the file in a manner he hoped was impressive. Inside was a crash course in interrogating goa'uld. Tips, priority questions, etc. It was the only way General Hammond would let him talk to Hades. But hades didn't need to know that. "How about another story?"

"Shoot."

"What are you doing with Cronus' territory?"

"Oh." Hades clucked in disappointment. "That's an easy one. Inheriting it. Kinda. I don't really do anything? I'm more of a figure head."

Daniel shuffled the papers again. Was there a pointer for dealing with counter-culture goa'uld? Of course not, they were called tok'ra and Hades was not one of them. So what was she? "Who does run things?"

"Miranda." Daniel gave her a blank look. "First prime. Wonderful woman. Very good at her job."

"And her job is, exactly?"

"Part time empire-to-republic transitioner." Hades bit her lip, then frowned. "Is that a word?"

"No." He was starting to regret wanting to talk to this goa'uld.

Hades nodded thoughtfully. She perked up. "I declare it to be."

Finally some God like behavior. "It's also not a job."

Hades shook her head. "No. It's definitely a job. I've seen her doing it."

Daniel glared at her for a moment. Hades waited patiently. "Fine. Next question. Who are you?"

"Hades."

"What is your relation to Cronus?"

Hades opened her mouth and closed it again. She dropped her happy-go-lucky demeanor and studied him carefully. "Aren't you the…mythology expert?" She over enunciated the title.

"Yes, but myths and reality don't always match up. I want to know what you actually are." He crossed his arms and waited.

Hades gave in. "I'm his son." She leaned forward. "His good for nothing, black sheep, prodigal son." She smirked. Then blinked and faltered. "I'm sorry. I'm making you uncomfortable." She shrank back into the chair.

"No." Daniel swallowed. He close the file and pushed back his chair. "I think that's—"

"May I ask a question?"

He froze. "Sure." He kicked himself inwardly. Why did he say that?

"May I have pen and paper?" She was serious.

"Probably not. Out of curiosity, why?"

Sarcastic incredulity danced across her face and disappeared. "I want to write." She leaned forward again. Slower this time, as if she worried she would scare him off. "You're very inspiring."

"Thanks." He walked to the door. Fighting the whole way not to run.

"One more?" He turned. Hades made direct eye contact. There was an intensity in her eyes—but that wasn't it. A curiosity—but that wasn't quite right either. Curiosity was there, yes, but also a note of care. He wanted to say empathy, but that wasn't something goa'ud did. "Who was she?"

"What?"

Hades looked away to search for the words. She took a breath. "People who've… lost someone. They have this look." She looked up at him, hoping he'd understood.

"Sha're."

* * *

Daniel returned to the debriefing room to find a crowd at the window and the gate open. He had heard the alarm on the way, but hadn't paid attention. He was too lost in thought.

He found and unoccupied section of glass and peered down.

The iris was shut.

A silver haired first prime was standing on the ramp. Which didn't make any sense because the iris was shut. She was dressed in a grey business suit. Absurdism was obviously the order of the day, so Daniel resolved to roll with the punches from that time forward.

The jaffa looked down her nose at General Hammond and the heavily armed Stargate personnel arrayed before her. "I need my god back."

* * *

The world and characters depicted in this story belong to Roland Emmerich, Dean Devlin, Jonathan Glassner, Brad Wright, and the Sci-Fi Channel. No profit is made off their use herein.


	5. Afternoon - part 1

George Hammond was vaguely aware of Daniel Jackson bursting through the doors into the gate room. The majority of his attention was directed at the woman towering over him. Her not insignificant height was added to by the gate ramp and what struck him as highly impractical footwear. He had to crane his neck slightly just to look at her, so he supposed they had some value as an intimidation tactic.

Besides, there is nothing quite so intimidating as that which does not make sense. "Did you hear me, General?"

She rippled. That was good. She was just a projection. "I apologize, ma'am but we are holding her for questioning. Though, I admit Colonel O'Neill's tactics were onorthodox for this—"

"Questioning her about what?" Behind the staunch exterior there was a hint of true confusion. What could they possibly want to talk to Hades about?

"To start with—" He didn't get any further than the start. Miranda bulldozed him as punishment for not recognizing a rhetorical question.

"What use is she to you? What does she know? What does she do?" Miranda advanced down the ramp with each question. When she reached the bottom she still topped Hammond by an inch.

Hammond spluttered. She may have been a projection, but she was still uncomfortably close. Before he put together an appropriate response, Dr. Jackson came to something resembling a rescue. "She writes."

Miranda turned her head. She took one step back and folded her hands in front of her. "Please clarify your tense, Dr. Jackson." Her voice became very sharp. "She 'writes' or she 'is writing?'"

Daniel thought and blinked. "She's asked for pen and paper, so… she will be writing?"

Miranda twisted a ring on her left hand, but otherwise remained motionless. Hammond hadn't noticed it before. It was old and plain. Like a wedding ring. He dismissed that thought. Jaffa didn't use wedding rings. He'd ask Daniel about it later.

Miranda's eyes fell once more on him. "I need to speak with you in person." She raised a hand as he began his protests. "I will submit to any security measures you feel are necessary. Bring a doctor as well. I await your call." She twisted the ring. "Give Hades a pen, please."

She faded into the air.

* * *

Two hours later Miranda sat in a highly secure guest room, rereading complaints on the suggested schedule for planetary elections. There were not nearly so many this time. Avoiding every single harvest festival and holy meal in the realm would be impossible, but the current plan dodged most of them.

Her ears pricked up as Teal'c shifted from one foot to the other. It was his first movement since her arrival. "Would you like to read it?" She set the tablet down and pushed it across the table. "It'd be useful. If what I've heard of you is true."

"What have you heard?"

His voice gave her chills. It reminded her a little of Cronus, and quite a lot of his death. "That you work toward a free Jaffa Nation." She picked up the tablet again. "It's an admirable goal."

Teal'c chuckled. Or rather breathed out through his nose in a somewhat amused fashion. "What would your lord say to that?"

"I don't know. You killed him." Miranda scrolled down.

"And you betrayed his legacy."

She paused. She put the tablet down again. "We're all shol'va here." She waited to see if Teal'c had anything to say. He didn't. "Besides, he knew. He knew my opinions, he knew Hades was his only child left. He knew everything." Miranda was no longer in the room, lost instead in the halls of memory. "He just didn't know it would happen so soon."

There was a long silence. Teal'c spoke. "His death was just."

"Cold comfort for the mourners." Miranda swallowed. Looked down. Looked up. Looking for words. She wanted to say: I'm sorry for your father.

General Hammond arrived before the words, with Dr. Fraiser in tow. Miranda rose. "Good afternoon, General." The doctor looked a little flustered, so Miranda put on her most welcoming look and extended a hand. "You're Dr. Fraiser, yes?"

Janet took it and smiled. "Yes. And you must be Miranda."

"Precisely." Miranda let go of her hand, but did not return to the table or much as glance at Teal'c and Hammond. "It is nice to see a woman in a position of power. There are so very few of us." She took her seat and waited for her hosts to do the same. "There's no sense beating around the bush." No matter how much Miranda would have liked to. "I need you to take care of Hades. For a few days. Writing is good for her. After a short break she should be ready to return."

Hammond frowned. He was sure he'd misheard, but upon further thought he decided that—even for his old ears—it is hard to mishear several sentences in a row. "You want us to 'take care' of a goa'uld lord."

"For a few days."

After considering delusion in place of hearing loss, he said, "May I ask why?"

"Guaranteed protection of any and all earth citizens either residing in or visiting the domains formerly belonging to Cronus and still under my command."

"Your command?" The general raised his eyebrows. He had hoped the meeting would make things clearer, not more murky. His hopes were in vain.

Miranda was slightly insulted. "Yes, 'my command.' Until next year at least."

Hammond ventured a guess as to what would happen in a year's time. "When it passes to Hades?"

He was wrong. Miranda was indignant. "When it passes to an assembly of elected citizens. My God—" She shook her head in disbelief. "I thought the Tok'ra had better intelligence than that. What do they think I'm doing, exactly?"

Hammond felt a strange sense of commiseration with this woman. "They don't tell us much." He admitted.

"That's the Tok'ra for you." Miranda gave him a small smirk. "Anyway, do we have a deal?"

Hammond tried one more time to make sense of things. "Why does she need looking after?"

Miranda pursed her lips, and very carefully constructed her sentence. This was the part she had dreaded. "Hades is… fragile."

"Pardon me, Miranda, but—" Dr. Fraiser spoke up. It took some nerve. Miranda was impressed. "Is Hades healthy… mentally?"

The doctor's nerve was no longer impressive. If anyone else had asked that question Miranda would have had them executed on the spot. But, she reminded herself, the good doctor was only trying to help, and she was polite, and that was the reason Miranda was there in the first place. So she took a breath and answered, "She is… different." The words tip-toed out of her mouth. "She doesn't blend normally, her genetic memory is incomplete, and she has… unique experiences."

"What kind of experiences?" Janet felt much calmer. This she could handle. This was a matter of patients and healing. This was her job.

"Feelings." Miranda clung to her crumbling façade composure. "Feelings most goa'uld don't have." Or didn't admit to. But society didn't admit to them either and Miranda made rather a point of only contradicting society in certain circles.

Dr. Fraiser nodded kindly. "Alright. And her blending. How does that work?"

The conversation wasn't getting any easier for Miranda. "She lives at what's called 'full blend.' The host and symbiote are one being. No distinction. No difference."

"She's at full blend with her current host?"

"No."

"Why?"

"That is not my story to tell." Miranda's voice was low and calm, but it firmly indicated the end of the line of questioning. Rather than trust the tau'ri again Miranda chose the next subject herself. "Just let her write." Her voice got stronger as she collected herself. "She won't need much. Just paper and some quiet." Miranda gracefully rose, a smile returning to her face. "One more thing: if a word of this gets out in the galaxy, I will collapse your planetary economy. Understand?"

Teal'c's deep voice once more rumbled through the room. "That is hardly an honorable field of battle.

Miranda gave Teal'c a glare so full of ice it was a wonder he didn't shiver. He may have, and hid it as Miranda did. The world will never know. "I don't do battle. I do commerce. And law suits. They're cleaner and much harder to come back from." She smiled again, a thin, painful thing that couldn't be called a smile except for the fact that her mouth turned up at the edges. No one moved for several seconds. Miranda was a patient woman, but even she tired of waiting. "Is there anything else?"

Dr. Fraiser got to her feet. Hammond didn't move. "You still haven't told us why."

"You are very fond of that question, general." Miranda found herself once again slipping out of control of the conversation. She clung to the wheel and trusted the storm to pass soon. She met his gaze. "Because millions of lives depend on the perception of Hades as a capable system lord."

"Is she capable?" Janet Fraiser's voice was soft, but she may as well have been screaming compared to the silence that followed.

Miranda's knuckles went white on the back of her chair. "No."

* * *

The world and characters depicted in this story belong to Roland Emmerich, Dean Devlin, Jonathan Glassner, Brad Wright, and the Sci-Fi Channel. No profit is made off their use herein.


	6. Afternoon - part 2

'Daniel Jackson thought of brown eyes and sand.' Miranda set down what she assumed was page one. Hades had covered thirteen pages front, back, margins and all in her spidery goa'uld script. Indeed, one could hardly tell it was goa'uld at all. "Will you change the names before you publish?"

Hades remained bent over page fourteen, scribbling away. "Who says I'll publish?" She set down the pen, now dangerously close to running dry, and cracked her fingers. "Yes."

Miranda perched on the table. She gathered the pages, attempting to put them in some semblance of order. She found page two easily enough but page three eluded her. "Is it about him or you?"

Hades blew out a sigh and surveyed her work. Her chaos. She made no move to help clean it up. "Both." She shrugged. "Supposed to be him. I fill the gaps with me." Hades leaned back. She stared at the ceiling and muttered, "Ocean." Then sprang forward, grabbed the pen, and once again put it to paper.

"There's no ocean on Abydos." Miranda straightened pages one through five and set them down.

Hades rolled the pen between finger and thumb. "Is that where they met?"

If it had been dignified to roll one's eyes Miranda would have rolled them. Instead she took a long blink. "How do I ever forget you're a hermit." She breathed in. "Daniel Jackson was a member of the tau'ri team that killed Ra. He met his wife, Sha're, during the mission. A year later they were raided by Apophis. Sha're served involuntarily as Amaunet's host until their deaths a little over a year ago." Miranda finished her lecture. She narrowed her eyes at Hades who promptly dropped the pen. "You keep that in mind when you talk to him."

"I don't try to cause pain."

"Few do." Miranda softened. "Just be polite and gentle. You can get the rest back home. The database is very thorough." It was. Miranda had seen to it that any and all information on Earth and especially the SGC had been gathered and cataloged. Ignoring Earth was foolish. Countless goa'uld had proved that. And she very much liked the culture. It was her inspiration for the new government.

Hades threw a wrench in her plans. Hades was quite fond of throwing wrenches. "I'm not going back."

"What?" Miranda wasn't angry, just shocked. She hadn't thought of Hades not returning. The goa'uld had never needed more than a few days in the past.

"Not soon anyway."

That was some comfort.

But not enough. "Darling, I need you to finish this. All the things we've talked about-"

"You don't need me." Hades picked up the pen again. She didn't write. She wanted to. She wanted to escape the conversation, but nothing came. "Just say I'm there. Lie. That's what we've been doing."

Miranda swallowed. It wasn't not going well. "Someone will find out."

"Who?" Hades threw the pen down again. She locked eyes with Miranda. "Yu's my godfather, Ba'al thinks I'm funny, and no one else is close enough to know."

Miranda marshaled her anger. It would get her nowhere. But some leaked through despite her efforts. "The system lords tolerate us so long as you make some effort to be like them. There are bigger wars. Don't rock the boat and you can do whatever you want, but this—" She jabbed at the pages, and the table, and the cell, and the SGC, and everything else about Hades that spat in the face of the goa'uld society, "This is too much rocking." Hades didn't look at her. Miranda forced her anger down. She loved her, but like any child Hades could be stubborn. "You have a duty—"

Hades shook her head. "I don't"

"—an obligation to all those people—"

"No. I'm not—" Hades rubbed her forehead.

"To everyone your actions—"

Hades pushed out of her seat and sent the chair flying. "No!" Miranda jumped. The guards watching the security feed jumped. The guard in the hallway jumped.

Hades had used the symbiote voice.

"I can't do it! I can't pretend to be sane!" Her eyes glowed gold and brimmed with water, but no tears fell. "All that! All the lies and—. It's killing me!" Hades covered her face with her hands. Her breathing bordered on sobs. Miranda wished she could un-hear it. More than that she wished she could make it stop. Finally Hades lowered her hands to her chest. Her voice and eyes returned to normal. "What would she think?" Her hands pushed into her own chest in emphasis.

Miranda's mouth twitched. She wanted to hold Hades. To rock the would-be god in her arms and tell her it would be alright. But that would not be seemly in front of a camera. She settled for words. "Then stay. As long as you need. As long as you want. Whatever you want."

"What happened to duty?"

Miranda's mouth fell open. "You are more important than duty." Her brow furrowed and she swallowed, every muscle fighting against tears. "You will always be more important. To me." She frowned. "Don't you dare think otherwise."

A defeated smile spread across Hades' face. "You don't need to be my mo—"

"I might as well be." Miranda stopped Hades before she could say 'mother.' She preferred that at least some small part of their relationship remain hidden from the tau'ri. "You can stay anywhere. So long as you don't try again."

Hades darkened. "Try what?"

Miranda let her fury loose. "You know what."

For a moment it looked like Hades would fly off the handle again. Instead she righted the chair and stood by the table. She gently rested her finger tips on the surface. "I won't" Hades took Miranda's left hand in hers. She looked down at the band on her ring finger than back up at Miranda. "Would you give up that?"

Miranda took her hand back. She pushed off the table and began pacing. She twisted the ring. "Alright." Hades lowered herself into the chair again. Miranda stopped and faced her. "You stay here. When you're ready tell the humans. They'll contact me—"

"What if they don't let me go?" Hades mused. The idea did not upset the goa'uld. She was very interested to see Miranda's reaction.

"Then I will retrieve you violently."

Hades mock frowned. "I thought you didn't do outright violence."

Miranda ground her teeth and grinned. "You're driving me to insanity."

"Careful now." Hades put on an air of joking concern. "Someone needs to lie to the system lords."

"Someone needs to allay their fears and distract their attention with harmless illusions." Miranda corrected Hades.

"My mistake." Hades smiled. Then launched herself out of the chair which miraculously managed to stay up. She crossed to Miranda, clapped a hand on each of her shoulders, and kissed her cheeks. "Go with my blessing, and fear not."

Miranda smiled back rather more sedately. Hades was feeling better. That was good. "Very good." She turned to leave. "By the way, what's the plot?"

"Troubling." Hades marched around the table and flopped into the chair again. "It all falls apart half-way through." She unscrewed the pen base and removed the ink column. "A walk will clear it all up."

Miranda stopped at the door. "I don't think they'll allow that."

"Yes. Of course. You're right." Hades bent back the metal clip on the pen cap.

Miranda couldn't help but feel that Hades was paying no attention.

* * *

Miranda emerged to find Dr. Fraiser waiting in the hall. "Good afternoon—" Miranda began a greeting. She stopped. "How much of that—" She touched the door. "Did you hear?" Miranda wasn't angry. She was resigned.

"Enough." Janet was very quiet.

The tension left Miranda's body. At least she wouldn't have to lie anymore. Dodge. No need to sound like Hades. "Walk with me? I don't think your superiors want me here any longer than necessary."

They had hardly gone four paces when the doctor asked, "Does Hades self-harm?"

Good lord. For all her kindly bedside manner this woman did not pull punches. "Once. She tried to stand in front of an incoming wormhole. She's never done it again, but—" Miranda wetted her lips. Her whole mouth went dry. "There is a... family history."

"Could you—"

Miranda waved off the question before she could finish. "Yes. Of course." Dr. Fraiser waited patiently for her to continue. "Her mother, Rhea, took her own life. Several centuries ago. Shortly after I became first prime."

Janet could tell that Miranda did not want to talk about this—there was so much she did not want to talk about—but if she was to care for Hades she needed to know. "Did she have the same condition? Abnormal blending, incomplete memory…?"

"No. She was healthy." Miranda began twisting the ring again. Small wonder it was so worn.

"Forgive my prying, but do you know why she might have…" Dr. Fraiser let the question trail off. They both knew how it ended.

"These things happen for many reasons. But the proverbial straw that broke the camel?" Miranda stopped. She looked at Janet with eyes full of sincerity. And pain. And willed her to hear the truth. "Her husband didn't love her anymore."

Silence.

Then every alarm in the base blared to life.

* * *

The world and characters depicted in this story belong to Roland Emmerich, Dean Devlin, Jonathan Glassner, Brad Wright, and the Sci-Fi Channel. No profit is made off their use herein.


	7. Evening

Hades left a note before she broke out. "I can pick locks. Confusing night on Tollan. Be back soon. Hades."

Ensuing searches turned up nothing. Daniel felt useless. After a few initial questions about mythology and Hades' likely behavior the search efforts largely did not involve him. He was bored. He left at 7:00.

Driving home he turned his conversation with Hades over and over in his mind. It is a long and complicated story. I'm not answering that sober. Who was she?

Who was she?

On the outskirts of Colorado Springs there as a bar. A dive bar. He wasn't sure why he noticed it them of all times—he drove past it every day—but that night the dull glow of Captain Sam's neon sign caught his eye. He'd always found the nautical theme rather questionable in a city a thousand miles from the ocean.

I'm not answering that sober.

He turned into the parking lot. There was only one other car. The windows were frosted, but the lights were definitely on.

It was a gamble—a silly and far-fetched gamble—but no one would know. He'd just pop his head in and check.

Daniel got out of the car.

Who was she?

* * *

All he could see of Hades was her lank hair, but that was enough. There was no one else there. Not even a bartender.

A square bottle of brown liquor sat open on the table beside her. He couldn't see the label. He could see that Hades was not quite at the half-way point but well on her way to being there. That much was obvious in the level of liquid and the slump of her shoulders.

She barely turned when he finally spoke. "Is this a good time to finish that conversation?"

"An excellent time." She reached for the bottle and a shot glass. There were many to choose from. "Have a drink." Daniel caught a glimpse of the label as she began pouring. "I picked this up because it had your and Jack's names on it." She put the whiskey down and said in a voice just edging toward a slur. "It is very good."

Daniel grimaced and sat down. He did not touch the glass. "How did you pick it up?"

Hades craned her neck outward and looked just to his right, apparently playing her memories out on a screen only visible to her. "With the contents of…" She rummaged through the glasses and peanut shells on the table. She eventually found an old wallet beside the overflowing ash tray. She flipped it open and read out, "'Allen Herbert's' wallet." Her hand went limp and the empty leather slipped from her grasp. "And an explanation of my extraterrestrial origins. The proprietor seemed very keen on welcoming me to Earth." She flung her arm out and motioned to the empty room. "He gave me the bar with the bottle."

Daniel inhaled and frowned slightly. "Yeah. The base has had an effect on the local culture."

"I like it" Hades raised her glass. She settled it against her lips and closed her eyes. For a moment Daniel thought that maybe she'd forgotten about it. In one fluid movement she flung her head back and drained the glass. She did not mean to slam it on the table, but her coordination was going and her hand came down harder than expected. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Who was she?"

"You'll want to drink that." Hades glanced at his untouched shot. "Sip. To get the flavor. Perhaps consider a drop of water."

Daniel picked up the shot gingerly. "Why am I sipping while you—?"

"Down?" Hades smiled broadly. A fake smile. A bitter smile. "Because I am drowning my sorrows." The "s" of "sorrows" was still hanging in the air as she once more reached for the Jack Daniels.

Daniel waited until Hades was looking at him. He drank and replaced the empty glass on the table.

Hades was very still and very quiet. "Her name was Persephone."

"I thought you said that was a lie?"

Hades held up a finger. "Based on truth. All the best lies are." Her eyes wandered to the middle distance once more. "It was consensual…" Then wandered back, "You go first."

This shook Daniel. "Why?"

"It's a trade" Hades shrugged. "Why not? You got somewhere to be?"

"Turning you in."

Hades eyebrows lifted into her hair. "All the more reason."

Daniel took the whiskey and poured himself another, somewhat smaller, drink. "What do you want to know?"

"All of it." Her voice, normally low and tinged with sarcasm or pain, was totally sincere. "The feeling. The smell. All the little things we ignore, that in the end are all that matter."

He thought back through five years. To his favorite memory of Sha're. "She was very smart. And brave. She had courage for the both of us. And we'd talk. Really talk. She could listen the way no one else ever does. And she put up with my lectures, droning on and on. And told me when to stop." He swallowed. "And she was an optimist."

"Now those are annoying."

"No" Daniel raised his gaze to Hades once more. He wasn't sure why but convincing her of this had suddenly become the most important thing in his life. "Not like this. She—Abydos—went through so much. The universe beat them down so many times. But she was always ready for it to give her more. Ready with a smile." He finally put his finger on the right word. "Open."

He paused. Hades pretended not to see his face tighten. Daniel pretended not to be washing away the lump in his throat with whiskey. "Sometimes I wish—not wish. Wonder.—if Teal'c hadn't... If the hand device had just stayed on." His pressed his fingers harder into the shot glass. "Maybe that." He forced himself to look up. He would not make such a confession to the floor. "Is what was supposed to happen."

He lost his nerve. "It's not… You know. It's—"

"A sense of timing." She did know.

"You're turn."

Hades settled back in her chair. She watched the muted light of the room filter through the bottle, spraying a pattern of gold onto the table. "She was an actress. Persephone. I've never met anyone so full. Maybe it was her job, but it felt like very part of humanity—every part of being sentient—was in her." Hades snorted. "The night we met I wrote two plays. Just for her."

"What were they." Daniel's words seemed to stick in his mouth, desperate not to be heard in case they disturbed the washed-up god across from him. Good memories could be hard to hold onto. Still, he was curious.

And Hades didn't seem to mind. "Crap. Compared to what she played. All the greats: Medea, Antigone, even Hector once." Hades straightened up. She held her hands out as if she could command the air to set her scene. It, of course, remained empty, and she was forced to rely on her imagination and Daniel upon her words. "I would watch from backstage. She'd finish to standing ovations and bouquets. And then we'd go home and…"

Daniel did not learn his lesson the first time. "What was your favorite? Play, I mean."

"_Orpheus and Eurydice_." She held the her glass to her mouth, then thought better of it. "I wrote it. That one was not crap. She and Aeson would switch off as the leads each night. They were spectacular. I remember in rehearsals…" Hades cut her laugh short. "Doesn't matter. Like Orpheus I wanted to spend every moment of our lives. Together." Anger crept into her voice as she fought with her own throat to continue. "It never occurred to me how short humans…"

"Was that it? Old age?" In the silence Daniel became acutely aware that he was on the edge of his seat. It was not the most comfortable of chairs, and the frame dug into his legs.

"If only." This time Hades showed no mercy to her shot. It stung, but it gave her the strength to carry on. "Turns out that… no matter how far you run politics" she spat out the word, "catches up to you. Ra was king, but he had a challenger—a very serious challenger—split the galaxy right down the middle—and this guy decides to go after dad. Through me." She was genuinely puzzled. "No idea why. We weren't on good terms even then."

She rolled the glass in her palm causing the rim to gleam. "I was out walking. I came back to… desolation. Buildings burning, corpses everywhere. I ran home. She wasn't there. I… ah… found our neighbor—a baker—bleeding out on the floor of her shop." Hades reached out toward nothing. Her fingers shook. "We bought breakfast there everyday." Water was pooling in the corners of Hades' eyes. She was just about ready to fly the white flag in the struggle against tears. But not just yet. "I tried to stop the…" Her hand fluttered in front of her abdomen, finishing the sentence in gesture. "And she kept saying 'He took her. He took her.'" Hades' breath whooshed out in a half sob. Her mouth hung open and her shoulders fell. "I remember walking into the street, feeling the mud on my knees, and crying." The tears came silently, but they came nonetheless.

Her mouth hardened and her eyes burned. "I found the lord that did it. No one even says his name anymore."

Hades fell went quiet again. It felt like the silence dragged on and on, but really it was only a few seconds. Daniel wanted to prompt her to finish. What happened to Persephone? But to say her name in front of Hades felt wrong. He imagined it was why people did not discuss Sha're in front of him.

Hades returned to reality. "Took me a week to find Persephone." She did not hesitate to say the name but the air seemed to change in its wake, like the moment after one touches a ruin. "I've never worked so hard for anything in my life. And I was late." Hades' breathe trembled. "When I got there she was almost dead. Almost. I held her." Her arms came out to cradle an invisible body. "I just wanted to see her eyes again. I couldn't hope for a good-bye, just… one last time." She glanced over to Daniel searching for understanding. She found it. Even with his life leaving him all Daniel had wanted to do was look into Sha're's eyes.

Her breath was on the brink of sobs, but she had to continue. The labor of control was etched into every muscle of her body. "Her mouth was open. I couldn't let go. I couldn't… So I jumped." Her eyes glazed over with water and memory. She forced out the last words. "It is so. Empty. In here."

Hades gave in and buried her head in her hands.

Daniel let her cry. It made sense. She was alone in her own head. She was a symbiote without a host fighting her, talking to her, adding to her. More alone than any human could ever imagine being, because, of course, they were desensitized. Humans were always alone.

And the grief. Never-ending. How could it? If the one she loved was always staring at her from reflections.

Hades pushed her hair back and sniffed. "Sometimes you get used to it—"

"But then you remember what it was like." He looked her in the eye again. As an absolute equal. For that was what she was. "What you had. And it all comes crashing down."

"And you wish there was some way. To make it stop."

"But it can't. They're not gone. There's a bit of them still there."

"And that. You can never let go of that. Because once you do—. That's when they're really gone."

They stared at each other for a long time. Knowing that once the moment broke they would be forced into the indifferent world again. Dealing with a loss no one truly understood.

It was Daniel who found the solution. The sweet in the bitter that makes such endings bearable. "In the good times it's a comfort. That they're not..."

"Yeah."

He filled the shots again and raised his aloft. "To the pieces."

Hades nodded. "To the pieces."

The glasses clinked.

* * *

The world and characters depicted in this story belong to Roland Emmerich, Dean Devlin, Jonathan Glassner, Brad Wright, and the Sci-Fi Channel. No profit is made off their use herein.

It should be noted that Colorado liquor laws essentially prohibit the existence of such establishments was the fictional Captain Sam's. In so far as this setting, the story is an AU.

One more very short chapter to go, but there won't be too much revealed. This is pretty much it. Please tell me what you think, be it a compliment or a tirade. I love to hear anything.


	8. Night

It was after midnight when Hades and Daniel decided to go home. Daniel correctly pointed out that neither was in any state to drive. They spent an hour seeking out a phone book and contacting a taxi service.

A little over an hour later they were the subject of much scrutiny at the main gate. And a half an hour after that Daniel attempted to convince Hammond to let Hades and Miranda return to P7D-309—"Tainaron," Hades would correct over his shoulder. The whiskey on his breath did nothing to help the doctor's case. Still, it was a testament to General Hammond's trust in SG-1 that two hours later he agreed to pass the request up the chain of command. There was a small chance that the "chain of command" included the oval office, but by that point no one was paying much attention since Miranda had found Hades and was screaming at her for scaring the Tau'ri. After three hours filled with apology and explanation, the SGC had the green light to release their prisoner. Or their guest, depending on which records one consults.

And so it was that as the eastern sky began to blush blue above the mountain, Hades and Miranda walk through the gate beneath it.

Everyone agreed it was for the best. Hades was too much trouble. She brought to many questions and left too few answers.

A little over a week later SG-6 was sent to check up on P7D-309. They found nothing. Hades was gone and the inhabitants had gone with her. Whether fleeing rival goa'uld or the economic downturn that came with losing such a celestial neighbor was anyone's guess. In any case the wind blew through empty buildings.

And one long disused amphitheater.

On the overgrown stage Clara Bellamy, the team's botanist, found a bouquet of non-native flowers.

Asphodel.

And finally a little over a month later, when the events of that strange day had almost slipped from memory, Daniel Jackson found himself in a bookstore on one of the more civilized planets of the galaxy. He found what one usually find in such stores, and one book in particular. A slim and unadorned volume on a shelf of newly published novels.

The title read "The Pieces, by Hades Cronus-son"

The dedication: "For Daniel."

* * *

The world and characters depicted in this story belong to Roland Emmerich, Dean Devlin, Jonathan Glassner, Brad Wright, and the Sci-Fi Channel. No profit is made off their use herein.

This is the end. For now. A few readers have encouraged me to keep going, but I have to get a plan in order first. Thank you all so much for reading and please review. I love suggestions, pointers, and criticism. I hope it was, at least at times, enjoyable.


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